The Thinker

Punky's dad was third shift this past week so she slept in my bed every night...the norm for this week each month. 

I am a sound sleeper, I mean dead-to-the-world sound, and I rarely hear Punky if she wakes up at night...unless she screams her head off, of course.  She has a bad habit of kicking the blankets off, so then she gets cold and winds up shivering in a ball in the corner of her crib.  She'll whimper and whine but she rarely cries and I never hear a bit of it.  Thankfully her dad is a much lighter sleeper. 

When he's at work all night, my mind is much more at ease if she's with me.  I wake up a hundred times due to her fidgeting, kicking, and spinning around on the bed, but at least I keep her warm and actually hear her if there's a problem.

I really look forward to those weeks; they have become special treats for the both of us.  We snuggle up under the cozy blankets and she asks me to tell her a story.  Then another.  And another.  I make up all sorts of things to amuse her...and she is delighted as long as the story has Elmo in it.

Now that she's getting older, we actually chat a bit before going to sleep.  She is learning the art of conversation.  She strings sentences together now.  She changes topics when she's bored.  And she has recently taken to asking me questions...quizzing me the way I have her for months.

For example, she asks me what color something is and then giggles her hiney off when I get it wrong.  At first she wouldn't correct me, she would just stare at me with a confused look on her face and then move on to something else.  Now she has no problem smugly telling me the right answer and flashing me an "I'm smarter than Mommy" smile.  It's too cute.

She quizzes me on numbers and counting, the alphabet and letter sounds, the noises animals make, and even what some words mean.  She asks where her aunt lives, what color Grammy's eyes are, what Pappy's name is, what time it is, and how I'm feeling.  She ponders where Daddy is, how old her cousin is, what my favorite color is, and who is on the penny.  Believe me, I could go on and on...

It's fun to be dramatic with her and pretend I'm absolutely clueless.  Of course, I have to answer some of them correctly... I mean, I can't let her think her mommy is a total dunce.  I get some right, I get some wrong, sometimes I pretend to think really hard, sometimes I answer quickly, but more often then not I turn it around and toss the question back to her.

Just before we drifted off to sleep last night, she asked me what time it was.

"It's almost eleven, sweetie. Time for you to stop yapping and get some sleep."  I was fighting to stay awake; I couldn't keep my eyes open.

"But Mommy, what my name is?" she asked in a desperate attempt to keep the conversation going and delay our much needed rest.

"I don't know, honey.  What is your name?" I mumbled and tossed it back at her.  I was so exhausted; I'm not sure I even knew my own name at that point.

"Hmmm..." she said, complete with the finger to her lips to indicate she was deep in thought.  "I'm thinking about it..." she muttered.

A few seconds later, she shouted her name...first, middle, and last.

"See? You know who you are!" I responded with all the energy and excitement I could muster at that hour.

"Yes, I do!" she chirped.  "Mommy?"

"What, sweetie?"

"I'm all done thinking now."

"Good. Now that your head is clear, close your eyes and go to sleep."

And she did.